‘A poor-looking specimen,’ observed Germanicus in a dry tone.
‘He is that, sir,’ agreed Tullus. ‘But his story has a ring of truth. He gambles and fights, and was commanded by his chieftain to quit Arminius’ camp and return to his settlement. Disgruntled, he came instead to us.’
‘You,’ barked Germanicus.
Prompted by Tullus’ whispered ‘Look at the governor’, the Chatti warrior raised his eyes.
‘Yes, sir?’ he replied in Latin.
‘Tell me what you know.’
Encouraged by Tullus’ nod, the warrior began. It seemed that Arminius had chosen the site at which he would fight – or try to fight – the legions in the coming days. This very night, he and the chieftains allied to him had gathered in a local grove sacred to Donar, the thunder god, there to ask for divine blessing on their enterprise. ‘There is more,’ the warrior revealed. ‘He also intends to attack your camp. Under cover of darkness if possible.’
Germanicus had listened in silence. Nervous, the warrior looked to Tullus, who motioned that he should wait.
‘What are your thoughts, Tullus?’ asked Germanicus.
Startled – what did his opinion count? – Tullus replied, ‘Sir?’
‘Is he telling the truth?’
Tullus felt the weight of the warrior’s desperate gaze. If he answered in the negative, the warrior would meet a quick fate. That wasn’t Tullus’ concern – if the warrior was lying, he deserved to die. What mattered was giving Germanicus good advice. Ten heartbeats pattered by.
‘I think he is, sir,’ said Tullus. ‘If the man’s putting on a show, it’s a good one.’
‘That was also my conclusion,’ said Germanicus, nodding. ‘Suppose he’s acting, however – suppose he has been sent by Arminius. What then?’
‘It seems to me that you have several options, sir. You don’t have to fight on Arminius’ chosen ground – there’s time yet to catch him somewhere else. We can be ready for the night assault – under Caecina, a similar attack was routed, with massive enemy casualties. And if this man is telling the truth as we think, then you’ve got Arminius’ measure.’
A second silence fell, which Tullus did not break. He’d said his piece – the rest was up to Germanicus. Aware that his fate hung in the balance, the warrior fixed his gaze on the floor once more.
‘I’m told the men are … disquieted by today’s events,’ said Germanicus out of the blue. ‘Would you agree?’
‘I can only speak for my soldiers, sir,’ said Tullus, ‘but they are a little out of sorts. It’s nothing to worry about – not like last autumn. They will fight tomorrow, if that’s what you want.’
‘Good.’ Germanicus rose to his feet, and gave the warrior a measured nod. ‘I believe you, to a point. You will be kept in the camp under guard, until the truth of your story is made clear. If things come to pass as you’ve told me, you will be well rewarded. If not—’
‘A thousand thanks, sir,’ cried the warrior. ‘I did not lie – you’ll see.’
Summoning a Praetorian, Germanicus had him escorted away.
Expecting to be dismissed as well, Tullus was surprised when Germanicus said, ‘Come with me.’
‘Sir?’
‘I am going out into the camp.’
Tullus felt the first stirrings of alarm. ‘Now, sir?’
‘I want to gauge the men’s mood, in particular the auxiliaries. See if their morale really has been affected by today’s disaster. It was a disaster,’ Germanicus repeated as Tullus registered surprise. ‘Chariovalda was a fool, and too many men died because of him. He had express instructions to charge the main body of Arminius’ army, and to disregard feints or attacks by other enemy groups. It was a simple trap – a child could have seen through it – but he was taken in nonetheless. Idiot.’
Silence was the prudent option, decided Tullus.
After a moment, Germanicus chuckled. ‘I’d wager you would have followed your orders to the letter.’ He waved a dismissive hand as Tullus opened his mouth. ‘You don’t need to answer. If you had led the attack, we’d be celebrating victory, like as not. So you’ll accompany me?’
‘I’d be honoured, sir. Use my cloak,’ said Tullus, unfastening his cloak pin. ‘It’s grimy enough to belong to an ordinary soldier.’
‘You need to go unrecognised as well.’
‘Two of my men are outside, sir. I’ll take one of their cloaks.’
‘I’ll send for it.’ Germanicus lowered his voice. ‘We’re going to leave by the back of the tent, you see.’
‘Your guards, sir—’
‘What about them?’ There was a childish glee in Germanicus’ eyes. ‘I won’t be in any danger. You’ll be with me.’
‘Aye, sir,’ said Tullus in a tone more confident than he felt.
If anything happened to Germanicus, the blame would be laid at his feet.
Chapter XVII
ARMINIUS EDGED HIS boots closer to the fire and pulled his cloak a little tighter. It was late – approaching midnight, he thought. An occasional nicker from a horse, low murmuring from a few tents and owl calls from the trees around were the only sounds. The air was chilly, and dead calm. Each cloud of his exhaled breath rose straight to the clear sky above. A bright white-yellow moon reigned supreme there, reducing the stars to pinpoints. He had been sitting with Maelo for hours, talking over the day’s fighting.
Both men felt frustrated that an opportunity had been lost. If the rest of the enemy cavalry had fallen for Arminius’ ploy, the legions would have swarmed over the river to their assistance and been struck from both sides by thousands of warriors hiding in the trees. It would have been a slaughter. Instead Germanicus’ level-headedness and his soldiers’ discipline had seen the Roman casualties confined to the Batavi and a few riders slain during their extrication.
‘It’s not all bad,’ said Arminius. ‘Germanicus had to retreat over the Visurgis a deal faster than he’d have wanted to. Quite the undignified exit for a general, I think – and his troops will have seen him scrambling to safety. It will have affected their morale.’
‘A pity about the Chatti whoreson then, eh?’ muttered Maelo. ‘If his story is believed, Germanicus will know about our planned attack.’
Arminius nodded. Word had not long reached them from one of the Chatti chieftains about a drunkard who’d been banished for making trouble. Instead of returning to his settlement, he had crept off in the direction of the Roman camp. Challenged by the patrol that had seen him, he had vanished into the darkness.
‘With any luck, the fool will have fallen and broken his neck,’ said Maelo, slurping from his wine skin.
‘Wiser to assume that he’s talking to Germanicus this very moment.’
‘So we’ll call off the assault?’ A good part of the evening had been spent spreading Arminius’ orders. More than two-thirds of his forces would be ready to strike the Roman camps before sunrise, with the rest prepared to ambush the enemy if they broke and fled.
‘No. We need to strike while the iron’s hot – the chieftains are keen to fight, and so are their warriors.’ Arminius felt Maelo’s eyes on him at once. ‘Last year’s disaster won’t be repeated, don’t worry. I’ll send scouts to spy out the land first. If there’s even the slightest hint that the Romans know of our plan, the whole thing will be abandoned.’
Maelo grunted, satisfied. ‘Idistaviso looks a decent site for the battle, if it comes to that.’
‘It lacks the river, but will suffice, Donar willing,’ said Arminius, rubbing a thoughtful finger over his lips. Even if their attack on the enemy camp was successful, Germanicus’ army’s size and the defences would prevent a complete victory. If Germanicus took the bait, the battle proper would take place at Idistaviso, a plain just a few miles away. It was bounded on either side and to the rear by trees; Arminius intended to place his warriors at its eastern edge, occupying both the flat ground and the higher terrain behind. Germanicus’ troops would be exposed for more than a quarter of a
mile as they marched to reach his forces, a time they could be subjected to harassing attacks from both left and right. This small benefit wasn’t anything like the advantages of seven years before, worried Arminius, but he couldn’t prevaricate all summer. Despite their keenness to fight, the chieftains were growing restless.
‘What do you make of our chances? Even odds? Two to one for – two to one against?’ Maelo’s voice was matter of fact.
‘Not two to one for, sad to say.’ Arminius let out a bitter laugh. ‘More like evens, if Donar aids us.’
‘Did Tudrus’ sacrifice mean aught, I wonder?’ muttered Maelo.
‘Who knows?’ replied Arminius, feeling uncomfortable and concerned that Donar might have perceived his callous motive for Tudrus’ sacrifice. ‘The gods do as they wish.’
‘Ever has it been so. We’re in their hands.’
‘There is one more thing we can do,’ said Arminius, spying a figure heading in their direction.
‘Who’s this?’ hissed Maelo, reaching for his sword.
‘Rest easy. It’s a Usipetes warrior whom I fell into conversation with earlier. He speaks fluent Latin.’
Startled, Maelo spat out a mouthful of wine. ‘Eh?’
‘Before our ambush on Varus, his mother had paid for him to be tutored in Vetera, reasoning that a warrior with Latin would have a greater chance of rising through the ranks of the auxiliaries.’
‘Can he be trusted?’
‘The boy is from a good family, and he’s loyal, according to several of his chieftains.’
‘What are you up to, Arminius?’
Arminius didn’t answer. As their visitor drew near, he called out, ‘Well met, Gervas.’
Gervas stepped into the firelight, blinking. A pale-faced, spindle-limbed youth of perhaps twenty summers, he wore a dark brown tunic and the patterned trousers common to his tribe. ‘Arminius.’ He dipped his chin at Maelo, who gave a tiny nod by way of response.
Arminius gestured to the blanket partway round the fire. ‘I’ve been waiting for you.’
Gervas’ face was anxious as he sat. ‘Am I late?’
‘Not at all. This is the perfect time for your mission.’
‘Care to explain?’ demanded Maelo.
‘Tell him, Gervas,’ ordered Arminius.
‘Many Roman soldiers will be discontented after today’s battle. Wouldn’t it be good to unsettle them even more?’ Gervas’ face split into a shy grin. ‘With Arminius’ blessing, I’m going to ride to the Roman camps and speak with the sentries. I’ll offer wives, money and land to every legionary and auxiliary who joins our cause.’
‘There are more than sixty thousand Roman troops on the other side of the river,’ challenged Maelo. ‘Will you talk to them all?’
Gervas looked abashed.
‘Maelo is ever the counterweight,’ said Arminius. ‘Continue.’
‘Some of my friends speak a little Latin,’ said Gervas. ‘They’ll do the same job in different places around the enemy camps.’
Maelo let out a phhhh of contempt.
‘Have some faith,’ said Arminius. ‘The ruse might not win over many legionaries, but the auxiliaries must be unhappy this night. They’ll have watched the Batavi being slaughtered, remember.’
‘It’s worth a try, I suppose, but setting one of their camps on fire would work better,’ said Maelo.
‘That can’t be done,’ retorted Arminius, irritated. ‘We do what we can against the monster that is Rome, and sowing unrest in their ranks is a useful tool.’
‘Good enough.’ Maelo got up and wandered towards the nearest trees. ‘Nature calls.’
Arminius eyed Gervas. ‘We have nothing to lose by trying your plan. If even half a dozen auxiliaries desert, it will have been worth the effort. Report to me when you return, no matter the hour.’
‘I will.’ Rather than rise, Gervas remained sitting.
‘Is there something else?’ asked Arminius in surprise.
‘Aye.’ A nervous throat-clear. ‘It’s nothing, like as not, but it has been troubling me.’
‘Speak,’ commanded Arminius in his most winning tone.
‘Do you recall the meeting organised by Mallovendus some months back – the one when the chieftains agreed to follow you?’
‘Of course,’ said Arminius. His success in the face of Gerulf’s antagonism and a memorable coupling with the buxom widow meant that the night had been a fine one.
‘A man dear to me died that evening – one of the tribe’s chieftains. He was my father’s cousin, Gerulf. After my parents were killed in a longhouse fire many years ago, he reared me as his own.’
It was news to Arminius that Gerulf had been Gervas’ relation, but he acted nonchalant. ‘I remember, yes. A sad matter. Fell drunk into a snowdrift when he was out for a piss – wasn’t that what happened to him?’
‘That’s what men say.’ Gervas’ expression had hardened. ‘Apart from one, that is.’
‘Who might that be?’ enquired Arminius in jocular tone.
‘A greybeard, one of the oldest living in Mallovendus’ settlement. Ninety summers and winters he’d lived, or so he said.’
‘He said?’
‘A chill took him a month ago.’
‘What a pity,’ lied Arminius. ‘Did he still have his wits before he expired?’ He could see Maelo – reappeared, but lingering in the background – ten paces behind Gervas. With the slightest dip of his chin, Arminius indicated that Maelo should remain where he was. ‘At such a ripe age, most men’s brains have turned to porridge.’
‘He was growing forgetful, it’s true,’ admitted Gervas. ‘But he seemed certain of one thing that night.’ For the first time since he had spoken of Gerulf, his confidence seemed to waver. ‘He was outside relieving himself. Wary of falling in the snow, he was leaning against the wall of his hut and in virtual darkness. A thin man came out of Mallovendus’ longhouse, not twenty paces off, and stopped almost at once to piss.’
‘Most of us did that a lot during the course of the evening. Mallovendus is a generous host – his beer never stopped flowing.’ Arminius knew what Gervas was about to say. So did Maelo – he had his dagger out and ready. Arminius checked him with a warning glance. ‘Let me guess. It was Gerulf he spotted?’
Gervas’ frown deepened. ‘I think so, but what made you suggest that?’
Arminius gave a careless shrug. ‘Because you brought him up.’
‘The old man saw someone resembling Maelo come out of Mallovendus’ longhouse and creep up behind the pissing man. Wrapping a hand over his mouth, the attacker bundled him off between the houses.’ Gervas glared at Arminius, and looked about for Maelo, who moved, catlike, further into the shadows.
‘You think Gerulf was abducted and murdered?’ Arminius asked with false solicitude.
‘That’s what it looked like, aye.’
‘It could have been someone having a joke with a friend, surely? Warriors are always playing stupid pranks on one another, play fighting, wrestling and so on.’
‘I don’t think so. The greybeard was frightened but he lingered, you see, peering from his almost closed door. Not long after, he saw the figure return to Mallovendus’ longhouse. Light from within fell on the man’s face as he entered.’ Gervas’ voice shook a little as he said, ‘It was Maelo, he swore.’
‘I doubt that greybeard could have identified his own son at ten paces, let alone someone he didn’t know at a much greater distance,’ demurred Arminius, using all his charisma. ‘It must have been hard enough to make his way from bed to door and back without falling over.’
‘The next day he watched Maelo talking to Mallovendus. He was sure who he’d seen.’ There was a stubborn note to Gervas’ voice.
‘Why would Maelo kill Gerulf?’
‘You can answer that.’ Gervas did not look at Arminius as he spoke.
‘Come now,’ said Arminius, hiding his fury. ‘It’s true that Gerulf wasn’t fond of me and Maelo, but for one of us to stoop to murder? Th
at is too much.’ He fixed wide, persuasive eyes on Gervas.
‘The greybeard was sure it was Maelo who killed him!’
Arminius pulled a winning smile. ‘Even if it was Maelo whom he saw the second time, what of it? At one stage during the evening Maelo went back to the house we had been quartered in to fetch a skin of good wine. I wanted to share it with Mallovendus. Perhaps the greybeard, rest his soul, spied Maelo as he got back.’
After a moment Gervas’ gaze dropped. ‘Aye, I expect you’re right.’
‘Gerulf was a good man – his loss must grieve you still,’ said Arminius, thinking, I’m well rid of the prick. Now, let this stripling youth believe me, or Maelo will have to lay him in the mud too.
‘It does,’ muttered Gervas.
Arminius let a dozen heartbeats patter by before urging, ‘Best leave now. Your mission will take at least two hours, and the moon has passed its zenith. You don’t want to be anywhere near the Romans’ encampments come the dawn.’
Maelo chose this point to come strolling back, a rueful look on his face. ‘My bowels are in a bad state, I can tell you. What did I miss?’
‘Just the final details of what I’ll say to the Romans,’ said Gervas, giving Arminius a pleading look that asked him to remain silent.
‘Donar guide you,’ said Arminius as Gervas crept away.
‘He believed you?’ whispered Maelo.
‘Most of him did, but some doubt remained.’
‘I’d best keep an ear to the ground then. There’ll be trouble if he starts pouring his theory into other men’s ears.’
‘We have more to worry about than him at this juncture,’ said Arminius. He gave Maelo a knowing look. ‘If it comes to it, he’ll be no harder than Gerulf to get rid of.’
Chapter XVIII
‘BEST KEEP THE hood up, sir,’ advised Tullus. Having exited the tent without alerting any of the patrolling Praetorians, he and Germanicus were making for the auxiliary lines. Nothing could be done about the governor’s great height, but if there was any chance of him remaining anonymous, he had to conceal his face.
‘I suppose there’s no other way.’ Germanicus’ voice was unwilling.